


Bokuto's Weakness

by Janettelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, Fukurodani - Freeform, High School, Is it love? I don't know, M/M, Secret Crush, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, Volleyball Dorks in Love, intellect does not equate to emotional awareness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26388928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janettelle/pseuds/Janettelle
Summary: Akaashi Keiji could not remember when he started the list. But it was not an issue, since it didn't have any negative effect him or anyone else. Right?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	Bokuto's Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, my fingers got carried away and this turned out so different from what I originally planned. But I drafted an actual list of weaknesses for this and I am proud of that. Maybe I'll rewrite this later on because I have this huge fear that I'm just RUINING my favourite characters, especially when I try to make my fics compliant to the plot. If you enjoy this, maybe leave a comment suggesting what else should be on Bokuto's list of weaknesses because let's be real, Akaashi would remember over a hundred facts about Bokuto and that's exactly why this man is spoiling the market for me.

Akaashi Keiji could not remember when he started the list.

The first time he was conscious he even had one was right before an internal match between members of the Fukurodani volleyball team. Akaashi had just been appointed as his team's setter by the coach when the then-second year Bokuto Kotaro bounded over to him, asking for an opinion of his 'energy' now that his grey-tipped black hair was styled.

_Number 7: Bokuto believes his hair gives off energy, and needs to have it gelled up while playing._

Akaashi had surprised himself when he realised there was a number assigned to this mental commentary. He knew he had a good memory, mostly to sustain a satisfactory academic report at the end of each year. But in the two seconds before Akaashi gave a noncommittal response (“It looks spiky”), he could not find any logical reason why he ordered his observations on Bokuto numerically.

He had decided then, that it was not an issue, since it didn't have any negative effect him or anyone else.

Except on the last day of training in his first year, Komi decided to ask for Akaashi's opinion for their next team captain. They had been told to think about it from the previous week, and Komi was trying to make small talk since the two were the first ones at the gym.

“I'm voting for Bokuto-san.”

“Eh?! Seriously? Why?”

“Because number 17: he overestimates his role and responsibility to his team.”

The words came out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying. Akaashi paused midway from putting on his gym shoes, aware that his team mate was looking at him strangely.

“Number... 17?”

“Basically, I think he already does a lot for the team, we might as well make it official.”

In the few seconds Komi took to process his deflective answer, Akaashi wondered why he felt a touched embarrassed that he had a secret list revolving around their energetic wing spiker. Perhaps it was just the fact Bokuto's loud personality contrasted Akaashi's quiet one? Or maybe he was stepping out of line, being in a younger year group than Bokuto? Either way, Akaashi didn't feel like getting into a conversation about this with Komi right now when it was not – supposed to be – an issue. He cleared his throat:

“Bokuto-san makes it a point to talk to everyone at every training, to make sure we're all feeling okay. He also always remembers someone else's weak points when the coach points them out, although that could be just to boost his own ego.”

“Really? I never realised...”

At this point, people started arriving in the gym, and Komi was pulled into another conversation with Konoha. Bokuto appeared then, whooping when he spotted Akaashi and making a beeline straight for him.

“I ate _yakiniku_ yesterday, so I'm going to be amazing at our cross-shots today!”

Akaashi tried not to smile at how Bokuto called their plays 'our' instead of 'his', especially when he noticed Komi from the side raising his eyebrow at them.

“Really? You're not going to get blocked again, Bokuto-san?”

“Hey hey hey! Stop cursing me, I'm the best here!”

He should have been more annoyed by Bokuto's occasional “I'm the best!” proclamations, except the boy really did put his spikes where his mouth is.

And it was a very charming mouth too, always curved in a toothy grin.

Questioning his attraction for others never held a very high position in Akaashi's list of priorities. He was aware his views on Bokuto's physique hovered in the grey area between envy (he wished his shoulders were just as broad, thighs just as muscular) and curiosity (how would they feel under his hands?), but his admiration never affected him enough to warrant a more in-depth investigation.

He _had_ pondered about how some of the crude, homoerotic jokes his classmates cracked about the volleyball team made him feel, but that had been overshadowed by the tight knit bond he had with the members, who all understood and shared his enjoyment of the sport.

It wasn't a full blown forest fire of a passion like Bokuto, of course. Nothing could ever cool that boy's determination, and that warmth spread to his actions, his cheerful disposition, his explosive outbursts about food, rainbows, and volleyball. Bokuto naturally attracted a lot of attention being so exuberant. He was harmlessly enthusiastic. Comfortable. Warm.

“ARE WE READY FOR TRAINING, GUYS!”

_Number 39: He thinks everyone will care about volleyball as much as he does._

He had no doubt other people would agree that being around Bokuto felt akin to soaking in a pool of genuine enthusiasm for even the smallest things in life. But Akaashi knew he would rather endure hours of Bokuto singing the soundtrack from Frozen than admit out loud how much he liked it.

At the end of training, Akaashi was waiting for Bokuto outside the gym when Komi accosted him with the vibe of a very short yakuza member demanding protection money. Konoha and Sarukui were shadowing him from behind, although they looked more amused than invested about the situation.

“Komi-san? What are yo-”

“What did you mean number 17?”

“... What?”

“Earlier today, you said number 17. What did you mean?”

“It's a number that has one and seven in it.”

“Shut up, Akaashi. Explain.”

Akaashi contemplated for a good four seconds.

Everyone knew he was observant and analytical, that's what made him a good setter. Konoha had even jokingly said Akaashi should be team captain yesterday, because he knew what everyone's strength and weaknesses were. Surely it was not that weird that he numbered his observations on Bokuto.

Except having a list itself said _something_ about Akaashi, although he didn't know what yet. It was probably the reason why he didn't have a list on anyone else. And why he occasionally recited it under his breath. And why he was currently searching for the name of the exact shade of yellow he gazed into almost every day, so he could formulate observation number 41.

Konoha and Sarukui were beginning to look more interested, the latter smirking as if he could read Akaashi's mind. Nothing in his face gave away his thoughts, but Akaashi finally accepted that even if he managed to escape his upperclassmen right now, they might still harass him the next day. He let out a sigh, and gave in.

“It's part of a list.”

“Of?”

“Of things I notice about Bokuto-san.”

“Why?”

This was a good question, but Akaashi hadn't given much thought to it.

Or rather, didn't want to.

“To know how to play better with him.”

It took him half a second, but this was not a complete falsehood: Akaashi's observations _had_ proven useful in prioritising certain plays with his overly enthusiastic senior. One could say they were a list of weaknesses, things that Akaashi needed to compensate for.

“For example, number 13 is he will fall into an “emo” mode when he is frustrated.”

“'Emo' mode?”

“Remember when he thought he couldn't serve anymore because he didn't manage to do a service ace and started coiling on the floor like a baby?”

“Ah, I remember! He was saying he didn't deserve the ball,” Konoha's eyes lit up at the memory, chortling. Akaashi distinctly recalled him yelling at Bokuto to get back up, and how that cost them another 3 minutes of their team mate spiralling into self-pity.

“Number 2 is he feels a need to throw something in the air when excited.”

“He does that?”

“Oh yeah, Kaori complained once he tossed a bottle at her face after a time out.”

“So it's because he's excited to get back into the match?” While Komi mulled over this, Sarukui watched Akaashi intently, as if he was an experiment finally showing some result.

“What else?” Komi asked, still invading his junior's personal space despite their height difference. At least he was smiling now.

“Number 29 is he will not remember people except by the nicknames he gives them.”

“Hmpf! Is that why he calls me monkey all the time?” Sarukui grumbled.

“Oh my god, how many do you know?” Konoha asked, laughing alongside Komi. Thankfully, they didn't let Akaashi give an answer, who wasn't very keen on revealing it either.

“That's incredible!”

“You can really read him!”

“As a setter, it helps to know how to deal with mercurial players.”

“Why do you think he would make a good captain then? I still think you'd make a better one,” Konoha insisted once more. Akaashi understood why people saw him as the ideal choice to lead the team. Once nominated as Fukurodani's official setter, he naturally shouldered the responsibility to provide quick decisions for everyone both on and off the court. He was the youngest on the team so far, and yet the most reliable to stay calm under pressure. But Akaashi held a different view about leadership.

“He's not afraid to face difficult opponents, Konoha-san. We need a captain like that who can inspire the team.”

Komi nearly choked, “This, coming from someone who never seems inspired by anything.”

“Exactly why I'm not the right person for the role.”

“Hey now, I think he seems pretty inspired by our baby,” Sarukui teased. Bokuto was definitely the team's baby, everyone agreed that was his nickname.

“He does inspire me,” Akaashi shrugged, seeing no harm in being honest, “I came to Fukurodani because I saw him in a match. I think he's an excellent player, even if he is a bit erratic.”

“Well, if he does become captain, I know who to pick as vice-captain,” Konoha stated proudly, as if being a fan of Akaashi was an acclaimed title. Komi finally stepped back, and had the grace to look slightly ashamed.

“Sorry about that. I was just really curious and it was eating me up inside.”

“It's okay. I know you can be very passionate sometimes.”

Konoha and Komi were a distance away before Sarukui turned to Akaashi, a sly look on his features.

“You're pretty passionate too, under that expressionless face.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let's just say: I think it's sweet you've been watching Bokuto for so long.”

Bokuto took another five minutes to come from the club room, and justified his delay in meeting Akaashi by saying he couldn't remember which jersey he needed to bring home to wash over the weekend.

_Number 21: If he is analysing something for more than 2 minutes, he can get confused with his own thoughts._

They walked to the station in the usual fashion: Bokuto inundating Akaashi with some story or commentary of his performance at practice, and Akaashi interjecting with deadpan one-liners to keep his friend's ego in check. The younger of them wondered a little about Sarukui's parting statement. When Bokuto reminded him about visiting over the weekend to help him practice some 'cool' spikes (and ensure the completion of his dreaded math homework), Akaashi realised he could not remember when he started hanging out with Bokuto after practices as well.

“You sure you have the energy? Your stamina was a little lacking today.”

“Hey, why you gotta put me down? I'll always have the energy to practice. I love volleyball!”

Akaashi stared at those golden irises reflecting the setting sun, and let himself smile a little, since Bokuto wasn't looking at him.

_Number 27: He thinks love is the greatest power of all._

After Bokuto and Akaashi were officially named team captain and vice-captain respectively, the blurred line between their different lives was almost non-existent. They knew each other's friends and families, favourite music and foods, even indulged in the little hobbies they had outside of volleyball training. Bokuto baked experimental pastries that Akaashi always had to try, while Akaashi sketched anime characters Bokuto would recommend. No one on the team commented on this, but once Bokuto deduced in front of everyone that Akaashi's brilliant setting came from his precise illustration skills, and it felt awkwardly like a mother selling her daughter for a matchmaking session.

“Drawing makes his fingers strong! Plus, you see the power in those quick tosses, it comes from his large palms!

_Number 1: He overshares about everything (and everyone) he likes._

“Konoha, look at them, they're huge! I mean, only a little bit bigger than mine, but HUGE!”

_Number 28: He is self-conscious of the size of his hands (especially in front of me)._

In that moment, Akaashi caught Sarukui's cheeky grin at the corner of the club room and was convinced his team mate was seeing more in Bokuto's exuberance than he was comfortable with.

“Bokuto sure knows how well you can use your hands, Akaashi.”

It took nearly eight seconds for Akaashi to talk himself out of a revenge plot involving Sarukui's uniform, the volleyball net, and the school's P.A. system.

Sometimes, Akaashi thinks it's the fact that Bokuto still manages to surprise him, despite the amount of time they spend together, that forms the foundation of their relationship. It was like a well-thought out strategy in chess that still had the flexibility to adapt to various opponents – exciting, yet reliable.

For example, Akaashi did not expect being the vice-captain under Bokuto's lead to be easy, envisioning himself taking on the bulk of the administrative responsibilities like pep rallies and liaising with teachers for practice matches. But he had nearly forgotten: Bokuto absolutely _loved_ the volleyball team, and he was willing to do _anything_ for them.

_Number 26: His idea of a good leader is someone who loves taking care of others._

Akaashi doubted the members ever properly registered the level of devotion his friend had as captain. He argued a strong case for the school to provide more funding for snacks and energy drinks during tournaments. He spent hours going over the key points in the pep rally script (although the actual drafting was done by yours truly). He practised every day, rain or shine, constantly telling Akaashi that when their team needed him for that crucial winning spike, he would not fail.

But sometimes, it was less surprise and more of astonishment that Akaashi was actually friends with him. The innocent baby owl once yelled down a crowded hallway asking if bukake was a new volleyball technique they could try. He also nearly clobbered a twelve year old who didn't believe he was sought after by the Japan Volleyball Association. At a qualifying match for Nationals, Bokuto started telling his opponents the trick to stopping his spikes in the middle of the match, and Akaashi could hear his own brain twist into itself, trying not to explode.

_Number 32: He will tell his opponents how to defeat him in a spur of overconfidence._

Thankfully, they won the match, with fireworks and war cries.

It was one of the only times Akaashi joined in with the team cheering; he had set up for the winning straight, after an entire game being hard pressed for points. Everyone was shouting, fists pumping in the air, Bokuto roaring with his arms open, then screaming at Akaashi:

“I KNEW YOU WOULD SET IT RIGHT! I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU!”

And Akaashi, face broken into a rare display of joy, laughed freely as the rest of the team clamoured around them. They squeezed their captain and vice-captain into each other's chests, showering the former with glowing praises. Akaashi felt his heart race, his cheeks flush, but he didn't care if it's from winning, or feeling Bokuto's elbow wrapped securely around his head. He leaned in, comfortable and warm.

Akaashi could not remember falling asleep, but when he woke up to soft black and white tickling his face he was unsurprised.

It was not uncommon for Bokuto to stay over his place after their major matches. They usually celebrated (or mourned) through the night with cup ramen and video games and play-by-play recounts of the entire match. Bokuto's bleary eyes opened soon after Akaashi's, teeth shining in a wide smile.

“Morning, Akaashi. Hey, we won yesterday!”

“Yes we did, Bokuto-san.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto fell back against the pillows, moving his arms behind his head, satisfied with himself, “With you supporting me, I'm always going to win.”

“We've lost matches before, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi scoffs a little as he got out of his bed, mouth tilting in a smirk. He didn't restrain his realistic side, especially when he knew it wouldn't douse his senior's burning idealism.

Bokuto's lips joined together, smile unwavering. His goldenrod eyes were gentle, but sharp: always picking out the silver lining.

“Then we can be losers together. Forever!”

Akaashi snorted softly, going through the motions of morning wash up while Bokuto untangled himself from the sheets. He tried to ignore the stuttering in his chest.

_Number 40: He truly believes in the concept of “forever”._

“HEY! Do you think the rest of the school already knows I'm the best?”

“You'll tell them on Monday, I'm sure.”

Bokuto's laugh resounded within the walls of the bedroom. Glancing sideways at his captain, his friend, his inspiration, Akaashi realised he could not remember what life is like without Bokuto anymore, but he liked the idea of never finding out again. Even if he won't admit that to anyone.

Or himself.


End file.
